


Sich Alleine Erinnern [Remembering Alone]

by Emery



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Loneliness, M/M, Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emery/pseuds/Emery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adolf's mind is a warzone, but he has no black dog to save him from the catastrophe. Trapped in solitude and destined to be alone, his struggles with a damaged memory are only the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sich Alleine Erinnern [Remembering Alone]

The memories returned to him slowly, so _agonizingly_ slowly. One by one they sparked into existence in his head like a tiny flame, lingered for awhile as they shone with such brightness he could see nothing or hear nothing but whatever content they bore, and then finally settled in amongst the rest of his halfway-completed recollections to stay. It was the worst when the memories came back to him scrambled or out of order—so many events in his life had been nothing short of terrifying, especially out of context. Little made sense to him except that he was alone, just as he had lived as a recluse for so many years on that airship.

Though his true identity had been confused at the time, Adolf had grown used to his watchdog companion. Even the cat hadn’t been so bad, despite the number of times she had jeopardized their operations—her manipulative abilities had aided him too much for him to be anything but grateful to her.

She was, after all, his first clansman.

One particularly forceful memory shoved its way into his mind like an explosive light that flashed painfully behind his eyes, and he physically winced at the sheer power of its intrusion. The brightness refused to leave him, and no matter how tightly Adolf closed his eyes or pressed his face into his pillow to block out the blinding white, he could perceive nothing but that brightness until, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Head pounding and ears throbbing, white-spotted vision returned to him to grant him the sight of something which he didn’t wish to see. However, it was not about what he _wished_ as the memories came flooding back one by one. It was about who he _was_. It was all history—not to be changed or altered or simply wished away.

He stood before nothing but rubble and ruins of something he presumed had once been dear to him. Sickened by an unidentifiable dread, his stomach twisted and his heart pounded so desperately within his ribcage that it threatened to break free. It was so easy to forget that his visions were memories and that keeping his eyes pressed so tightly shut wouldn’t change a thing about his perception—he kept them closed anyway, because somehow, it was reassuring.

One boot-clad foot took a single step forward on a cobblestone street, and he realized he was in a uniform.

A memory from _that_ place, then.

Adolf cried out when a second explosion addled his perception and seemed to shake his brain with its power. Gunshots faded into the range of his auditory perception and the scene grew around him as he remembered it. His grey eyes widened when he felt the cold metal pressed in his hand, caressing his skin like a deadly and icy touch, feeding on his fears and making him tremble with indecision. He weighed the need for survival versus the guilt he would feel if he were to actually _use_ the godforsaken thing in his hands, but his conscience and his instinct failed to come to any sort of definite conclusion until he was forced to react out of reflex and shock alone.

Blood of the man who now lay at his feet spilled from the wound and pooled in the cracks in the street, just another victim of the war which had claimed so many lives—

The vision left him with the knowledge that he was a murderer, a cold-hearted killer, and nothing more. The memory left him after one more blinding flash of light which he presumed to have been an explosion in the warzone his mind had become.

Adolf pulled his knees to his chest where he lay on the bed—not even his own, for he no longer had a home to call his and his alone—amongst tangled sheets and ignored the salt tear that slid from the corner of his eye. Had it been self defense? Had he been justified in his actions when all he had wanted from the very beginning was happiness? The questions that rolled around inside him were difficult ones, nearly impossible to answer, especially alone. His body shook with hiccups and sighs and he realized for the first time how alone he really was, destined forever to be the Silver King, the most powerful of kings, but also destined for an eternal life of miserable solitude.

Kuroh would find him—he was sure of it. But how long would it take? Unlike him, Kuroh was not immortal, and every second they spent apart was a second wasted. Adolf—or was his name Shiro? He didn’t know, anymore, nor did he care. The only thing he wanted to occupy his mind at the moment was the remembrance of having his tall, determined, loyal, precious clansman again. Kuroh Yatogami was what he wanted to remember, and not the nightmares that plagued him without mercy.  Not war and the misuse of his research, not death and destruction of the city and country he had loved so dearly, not the elimination of all that been close to his heart.

He wanted to feel the warmth of Kuroh’s body once again, feel the soft yet firm grasp of his hand, the silkiness of that raven-black hair that fell so handsomely down his back and framed his perfect face. Human contact had been so foreign to him until he had met Kuroh, and just when Adolf thought he had been able to live without it, he had been proved so horrendously wrong. Never before had he needed the touch of another human being, and one human being in particular, so badly. His desperate craving to feel loved and respected once again would give him patience. The love and happiness he harbored so deeply in his heart would get him through and would help him to survive until Kuroh found him again, and he would no longer let the memories take a hold of him and paralyze him with fear.

If only to put everything behind him and focus solely on the future and what he hoped would lie ahead, Adolf would become Shiro. He would embrace that personality and live by its carefree attitude and its desire for happiness. He would say goodbye to the man he had once been who had been corrupted by war and politics and death. Shiro was his innocence and his fresh start, and that was what he would embrace.

Another memory possessed him, and he realized that it was easier said than done.


End file.
